


The Door Never Opened

by cazmalfoy



Series: Assassin Ianto [8]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 23:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>75 years after Children of Earth, Jack returns to Cardiff; but has he found the answers he was looking for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Door Never Opened

Jack watched the Doctor go and felt a pang in his heart. The look of contempt on the Time Lord’s face said more than words ever could. If the man he’d just left was a past version of the man he had met in 1941, it was no wonder why the Doctor’s ninth incarnation didn’t trust him; he had proven he wasn’t worthy of that much respect. Back in 1941, Jack had never known why the stranger refused to give him the benefit of the doubt when they’d just met, but after centuries of trying to work it out, Jack finally understood.

The immortal Captain looked around him and felt another pang when he saw just how much the city had changed. If he didn’t know any better, he would have guessed he wasn’t even in Cardiff at all.

A newspaper vender on the corner looked surprised when Jack asked to look at the paper – or, more specifically the date – but complied nevertheless.

Immediately, Jack felt the oxygen leave his lungs when he saw how many years had passed since Ianto had sent him away with the Doctor. Seventy-five years. He had been away from his children and family for seventy-five years. They wouldn’t even know who he was anymore if any of them were even alive still.

He wandered through the streets until nightfall, trying to re-familiarise himself with the city. So much seemed to have changed, yet the more time he spent there, the more he realised things were still the same.

Eventually, his feet took him to the garden of a house he hadn’t seen for three-quarters of a century. The garden gate still creaked as he opened it, making Jack smile. Even after all the time that had passed, Ianto still hadn’t found the time to fix it. As he got to the door, realisation hit Jack hard in the stomach. Ianto might not even live in the house anymore; he might not even live in Cardiff or on Earth.

Jack took a deep breath and pressed his finger against the doorbell. When nothing happened, he found himself torn; should he leave, head back into space, or should he wait for Ianto?

Before he could decide which action to take, the door opened to reveal Ianto. Jack had a few seconds to take in the other man’s appearance – he was wearing torn jeans and a dark blue T-shirt - before the assassin reached out and curled his fist in Jack’s shirt.

“Will?” he breathed, his eyes widening in surprise when he realised his partner was real and not actually a figment of his imagination. “You’re back,” he murmured, pulling Jack into the house and allowing the door to fall closed behind them.

Jack tried to speak, but found his lips covered with Ianto’s, and his mouth filled with the younger Time Agent’s tongue. “Ianto,” he gasped, trying to breathe between kisses.

Ianto shook his head, “Not now,” he muttered, kissing Jack deeply once more. 

The Captain tried to resist Ianto’s kisses, but when Ianto began unfastening his belt, he gave into the heat he could feel spreading through his veins and began to kiss back passionately.

Ianto urged his partner down the corridor and into the living room, never breaking the embrace. He ran his hands down Jack’s chest and, with expert fingers, unfastened the buttons of his shirt. With a groan, he pushed the material to the side and allowed his fingers to dance over the muscles of Jack’s chest - relearning every inch of him.

Jack moaned and arched into the touch when he felt Ianto’s fingertips brush over his nipples. Not one to be outdone, Jack pulled Ianto’s t-shirt from his jeans and finally broke the kiss. Gasping for breath, he wrenched the t-shirt over Ianto’s head and threw it on the floor.

Still not speaking, the assassin continued shedding Jack of his trousers and underwear. He roughly pushed Jack down onto the couch and unfastened his own jeans, throwing them onto the floor next to Jack’s.

They both groaned when Ianto straddled the Captain’s hips and they felt their skin touch for the first time in almost a century. “Fuck, Ianto,” Jack gasped, his hands going to Ianto’s hips.

The assassin growled and rolled his hips, rubbing their erections together. “That’s the idea,” he snarled, kissing Jack deeply.

Ianto slide his tongue inside Jack’s mouth and reached between their bodies, grasping their cocks in his fist. 

Jack groaned at the friction he felt from Ianto’s hand and very nearly came at the feeling alone. “If that’s what you want, Ianto, you’d better do it quick because I’m not going to last much longer.”

Ianto smirked and curled his fingers around Jack’s wrist. “Make yourself useful,” he instructed, guiding the older immortal’s hand around his back.

He didn’t need to explain further; Jack knew what Ianto wanted. He sucked two fingers into his mouth before slowly sliding one inside his lover’s body. Ianto groaned and sat up straighter, pressing himself further onto Jack’s finger. “More,” he growled, stroking Jack’s cock roughly.

Jack grinned and kissed Ianto deeply as he slid a second finger inside Ianto’s body.

When he curled his fingers and brushed Ianto’s prostate, the assassin threw his head back and moaned loudly. “Enough,” he growled. “Want to feel you, now,” he hissed, reaching back and grasping Jack’s wrist in a firm grip.

Jack hesitated, but Ianto kissed him roughly, plunging his tongue deeply into his mouth and he gave in quickly. Carefully he withdrew his fingers from Ianto’s body and moved to grasp his hips once more.

Resting his hands on Jack’s shoulders for leverage, Ianto knelt up and positioned himself over Jack’s cock. He took a moment to prepare himself before slamming down and impaling himself.

“Fuck, Will,” he screamed at the sudden intrusion into his almost unprepared body. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

Jack grinned and placed his hands on Ianto’s hips. He guided the assassin up until Jack’s cock was almost completely out of his body before he slammed back down, impaling himself once more.

Ianto cried out in pleasure and squeezed his eyes closed. It hurt, of course it hurt; it had been decades since he had been with a man, but the familiar feeling of Jack’s cock inside his body was more glorious than anything he could remember.

As he worked himself up and down, he reached between their bodies and curled his fingers around his own erection. “Fuck,” he breathed, leaning forward and capturing Jack’s lips with his own. “Fuck,” he repeated, stroking himself faster and faster.

Neither of them could remember being as brutal with each other as they were being in that moment, but Jack also knew that neither of them cared.

The Captain knew the instant his cock brushed against Ianto’s prostate, because he threw his head back, stilling in his movements for moment as he screamed out, “Will!” as loud as he could.

Jack groaned deep in his throat at the sight of Ianto, flushed above him with a look of complete abandonment on his face. When the assassin recovered from his rush of pleasure, he picked up the pace once more and began fucking himself in earnest on Jack’s body.

“Will,” Ianto breathed, stroking his cock faster; he wasn’t in synch with his trusts anymore but he didn’t care. It just felt so damn good. “Not going…. to last… much…” he could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone speak.

Jack shook his head, leaning up and capturing Ianto’s lips in a deep kiss. The slight movement shifted Jack’s cock inside Ianto’s body and the Captain moaned deeply. “Come for me, Ianto,” he whispered, his hot breath ghosting over Ianto’s lips.

He moved his hand to join Ianto’s on his cock and began stroking him as well. “I want to see you come,” he added, pushing his hips up with more force than before.

Ianto let out a scream of pleasure and felt his orgasm overwhelm him. His balls tightened and he threw his head back, moaning Jack’s name as he spurted come over the Captain’s hand.

Jack groaned when Ianto’s arse muscles contracted around his cock and he snapped his hips up one more time, before emptying himself into Ianto’s body. “Ianto!” he cried, shaking from exertion as his whole body pulsated.

Ianto waited until Jack was completely spent, before climbing off the other man – groaning a little as his body protested the movement – and collapsing on the couch next to Jack. He used his T-shirt to clean them off somewhat, before throwing it back on the floor with a grimace.

When the post-sex haze cleared Ianto groaned and leant his head against the back of the couch, realising what they’d just done. “Why do we always end up here?” he sighed, lifting his head and glancing at the clock. He was exhausted, but it was still too early to go to bed.

Jack chuckled weakly and turned to face Ianto. “It was the one thing that we always managed to get right,” he whispered, running his fingers across Ianto’s sweaty chest and burying his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the other man’s scent.

Ianto nuzzled Jack’s hair. “We did a lot of things right, Will,” he argued, placing his hand over the older immortals. He lifted Jack’s fingers to his mouth and sucked the digits.

Jack gasped and lifted his head as felt his cock twitch again. Ianto grinned to himself when he heard Jack’s breath hitch. “You’re already ready for round two?” he asked, letting the other man’s fingers slip from his mouth and looking into his blue eyes.

The Captain shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, leaning forward and capturing Ianto’s lips in a passionate kiss. “Can you blame me for wanting more?” he whispered, not moving his mouth away from Ianto’s. 

Ianto’s own breath hitched when he felt Jack’s wandering fingers dance over his rapidly hardening erection. “Not here,” he whispered, reaching down and pulling Jack’s hand away. “Bed,” he added, seeing Jack’s dejected look.

Jack grinned widely and laced his fingers with Ianto’s, pulling him to his feet and dragging him through the house; his feet automatically knowing the way.

x

When Ianto woke, he was alone and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face as he tried to fight back tears. Of course the previous day had been a dream. It always was. He had dreamt of Will coming home to him, and of being a family again for decades. 

The dreams were always vivid; he always woke with the smell of the other man in his nostrils, or a hard cock depending on the kind of dream. The most recent dream had been even more realistic, though. Ianto could practically feel the after effects of a great sex session.

He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, intending to go back to sleep; work could wait for another hour or so. He let out a growl of annoyance when he felt tears rise once more as he realised that the pillow even smelt like Will. 

Ianto turned his head to the side, trying to block out the smell his imagination was providing him with. Through barely open eyes, he glanced at the floor next to the bed. He frowned when he realised that the sheets were in a crumpled mess on the floor. Exactly what had happened last night, he wondered to himself.

He sat up and drew in a pained breath when he felt a sharp pain shoot through him. So the previous night hadn’t been a dream after all. After so long of hoping his partner would come home – come back to him – Will finally had; there was only one person he trusted to enough to let them fuck him. “Will?” he called, unable to keep the hesitation out of his voice.

He sighed heavily when he didn’t receive an answer and pushed the covers back, climbing out of the bed and shivering at the temperature of the room. He grabbed his dressing gown and pulled it over his shoulders, tying the belt around his waist.

The assassin checked all the rooms in the house, growling in annoyance when he saw that all of them were empty and the Captain was nowhere in sight; even though the other man’s greatcoat was lying on the living room floor. “Where are you, Will?” he whispered to himself, leaning against the counter and folding his arms across his chest.

Ianto ran a hand over his face as he tried to think about where the other man could be. Realisation slowly began to dawn on him and he lowered his hand, before making his way out of the kitchen and down the hallway. He passed the wall where photos of all their children hung as he went to get dressed.

x

As Ianto suspected, he found Jack in the cemetery, sitting on a bench and staring at the headstones with tears coursing down his cheeks. The Captain was wearing one of Ianto’s hooded sweatshirts over his shirt and braces, which explained why his greatcoat was back at the house.

“They’re gone,” Jack whispered, sensing the assassin’s approach but not turning his head to look at him.

Ianto nodded his head and moved so he was standing next to his partner. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, lifting his hand and placing it on Jack’s shoulder.

“I should have been here,” Jack stated, anger and bitterness in his voice. “If I’d have been the father they deserved-,”

Ianto’s eyes narrowed and he sat down on the bench next to Jack. “Stop that right now, Will Kanaris,” he instructed, a familiar edge to his voice. Jack smiled to himself when he realised how much he had actually missed the assassin – far more than he had initially thought. “You were the best father any child could ask for; never doubt that.”

“But, after what-,” Jack began, but Ianto held a hand up.

“We gave every single one of our children the best childhoods we could,” Ianto assured him. 

Jack snorted with sarcastic laughter and shook his head. “Of course we did,” he muttered. “Until I tried to sacrifice our grandson for the good of the planet.” He fell silent for a moment, before asking in a whisper, “Did she…? Did Alice ever forgive me?”

Ianto didn’t answer and Jack turned his head, sighing when he saw that Ianto was biting his bottom lip in hesitation. “Of course she didn’t,” Jack muttered, answering his own question. “I wouldn’t forgive me either – I haven’t,” he corrected himself.

Ianto sighed and ran his fingers through the hair at the back of Jack’s head. “What happened that day, Will?” he asked softly. 

Jack didn’t answer, and Ianto reached around, placing his hand under the other man’s chin and turning him to face him.

“I…” Jack took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I think I need a little time to get used to being here again, first,” he finally whispered, opening his eyes and looking at Ianto; silently begging the assassin to understand that he wasn’t ready to recall the memories.

Ianto stared at him intently, before he slowly nodded. “Okay,” he murmured. “But I do want to know one thing,” he stated. Jack raised an eyebrow and waited nervously for Ianto to continue. “Are you the man I fell in love with again?”

Jack smiled and turned around fully so that he was facing Ianto. “I hope so,” he murmured, bracing his hands on Ianto’s thighs and leaning forward, kissing him passionately. 

After a moment, Ianto pulled back and grinned at Jack. “I think that answered my question,” he conceded, pressing a soft kiss on Jack’s lips once more. “Come on,” he instructed, placing his hand in Jack’s and pulling him to his feet. “There’s someone who’s been desperate to see you again for decades.”

x

Jack couldn’t breathe. He had been suffocated before and it was always painful. But he had never been suffocated by a member of his own family – shot, yes; but never suffocated.

“Princess,” Jack wheezed when his lungs couldn’t take it any longer. “Unless you want to kill me, you’re going to have to let me go.”

Cali chuckled and reluctantly released her grandfather, allowing him enough room to breathe; although, she never actually let go of him completely.

Ianto laughed and rolled his eyes from where he was sitting on the steps of their granddaughter’s house. “He’s not going anywhere, Cali,” he assured her when he saw that she still hadn’t released Jack.

Cali turned her blue eyes to regard Ianto with a look that could only be described as suspicion. “Really?” she asked, looking back up at Jack with a child-like expression on her face.

Jack grinned and nodded his head, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Yeah,” he murmured, letting out a startled noise when Cali threw her arms around him once more. 

Ianto laughed and got to his feet, pulling the Time Lord off of Jack. “There’ll be time for hugging, later,” he stated, mimicking Jack’s earlier action and pressing a kiss against her forehead. “We’ve got to go see Gwyn,” he added.

“If he doesn’t find out I’m back first hand, he’ll go mad,” Jack agreed with a nod of his head.

Cali snorted with laughter and rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about that,” she muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “He’s already completely crazy.”

Jack rolled his eyes and threw his granddaughter a scolding look. “Are you two ever going to stop that?” he asked, groaning when she shook her head.

x

Gwyn wasn’t at home when Jack and Ianto arrived at his flat, and Jack worried for a moment - thinking that something had happened to his grandson. Sensing Jack’s concern, Ianto placed a hand on the older man’s arm and whispered that Gwyn was probably still at work.

Ianto had suggested teleporting to the Hub, but Jack had declined; he wanted to relearn as much of the city as he could.

Jack followed Ianto through the tourist office entrance to the secret base – which wasn’t as run down as they had kept it in the past – and down the long corridor to the lift. 

When they had rebuilt the Hub after the explosion, they had made a conscious effort to not copy the layout of the previous building; there had been too many losses and that design held far too many memories – both good and bad – for Jack and Ianto, so they had purposely made the choice to change things.

Where the computer workstations had been previously was now a large meeting room. The workstations were where Jack and Ianto’s office had been; and the office had been relocated to what had been the hot house.

“Gwyn?” Ianto shouted, his voice echoing through the empty space. When silence answered him, he turned to Jack and shrugged his shoulders. “They might be out working,” he suggested.

Jack nodded his head and sank into a chair at the table, looking around and taking his surroundings. When the original Hub had been destroyed, the explosion had taken their son Nathan’s mural with it; he had taken it upon himself at the age of fifteen to finish the dragon painting that had been unfinished for hundreds of years – only to have an explosion a little more than a century later destroy it completely.

Once the Hub had been completed, Nathan’s granddaughter, Sierra, had set about recreating the dragon painting; using nothing but photographs as a reference. She had clearly inherited her grandfather’s talent for drawing.

“Grandpa?” Gwyn’s voice asked from the doorway behind Jack, who was still studying the dragon.

Ianto placed his hands on his hips and glared at Gwyn. “Where were you?” he demanded, his eyes flickering to Jack and silently instructing him to not turn around at that moment.

Gwyn chuckled and, even though he had his back to the Time Lord, Jack could practically hear him roll his eyes. “I was in the archives,” he retorted. “What’d you want?”

Ianto nodded his head, indicating that Jack should turn around to face Gwyn. 

“Granddad?” the young man exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw who the other occupant of the room was.

Jack grinned and got to his feet, taking a step closer to his grandson. “It’s me,” he replied, seconds before Gwyn threw himself into Jack’s arms in a similar way to his big sister.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Gwyn whispered, pressing his face against Jack’s shoulder – none of his incarnations had been taller than the Time Agents. “How long are you staying?” he asked softly, taking a step back and looking up at Jack with wide eyes.

Jack smiled and pressed a kiss against Gwyn’s hair. “For as long as your Grandpa will have me,” he chuckled, his blue eyes flickering over to Ianto.

The assassin rolled his own eyes and sat down on the shiny table that sat in the centre of the room. “So, five minutes then, right?” he retorted, although it was clear from the look in his eyes that he didn’t mean a word he was saying.

Jack chuckled and blew his partner a kiss, before hugging his grandson once more. “Where are the kids?” he asked, referring to Gwyn’s three children.

Gwyn laughed and rolled his eyes. “You know, if Tre knew you were calling him a kid he’d kill you, right?” Jack nodded his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Tre and Hadyn are travelling around Asia, and Morgan’s gone back to University.”

Jack rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. “How many degrees does that girl need?” he mumbled. “How many does she have now? Five, six?”

Gwyn shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t ask me; I’m only her dad. I haven’t a clue.”

x

Jack and Ianto quickly fell back into a familiar pattern. While Ianto wasn’t in charge of Torchwood anymore – having handed the reins over to Gwyn while Jack been away – he wasn’t evil enough to force Gwyn to handle the meetings with various members of the government; they were all keen to avoid a repeat of what had happened with the 456.

Ianto hadn’t asked Jack for any more information about what happened while he had been away, and Jack hadn’t offered up any either. In Ianto’s case, he wasn’t sure that he was ready to hear exactly what the other man had discovered, and Jack wasn’t certain he would be able to go into detail about the events.

Almost three weeks after returning to Cardiff, Ianto woke with a start in the middle of the night. Automatically his hand slid under his pillow; reaching for the gun he had always kept there – except when he’d been pregnant with Dominic and Landon. He hadn’t been allowed then. 

A cursory glance of the bed beside him, told him that Jack wasn’t asleep anymore, but that wasn’t enough to make him put the gun down.

Silently, he slipped out of bed; weapon still clutched in his right hand and moved down the corridor. He paused at the top of the stairs, listening for the sound of any movement on the floor below them.

He couldn’t hear anything for a long moment, until he heard the tell-tale sounds of a crash, followed by a curse in Frezanian. Ianto smiled; not many people in Cardiff could speak that language.

Not bothering to remain silent, he headed down the stairs and followed the sounds down the corridor to the kitchen, where he found Jack leaning against the counter, waiting for him with an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” the Captain murmured, a light blush colouring his cheeks. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d make myself some warm milk or something.”

Ianto raised an eyebrow and nodded to the pan that Jack was holding. “With a wok?” he asked, rolling his eyes with a chuckle. “Give me that,” he instructed, holding his hand out. “I’ll do it.”

Jack smiled gratefully and handed the pan over, before sliding into a chair at the table and watching as his partner moved around the kitchen with as much grace and poise as he normally did – you almost couldn’t tell that it was two in the morning.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Ianto asked conversationally, placing the milk back in the fridge and setting the pan – not the wok – on the stove, stirring the liquid periodically as it slowly heated.

Jack shrugged his shoulders and ran his fingers over the grain of the dining room table – the same dining room table that they had bought when they’d first moved into the house, over three hundred years before. “I was thinking about when I was away with the Doctor,” he finally confessed, looking up at Ianto.

“Ah,” the assassin murmured, turning the stove off and pouring the milk into two cups, handing one of them to Jack and sitting down next to him. “I’m not surprised you couldn’t sleep,” he added, blowing on the hot liquid in an attempt to cool it down.

Jack raised a questioning eyebrow and Ianto smiled tightly. “You’ve been having nightmares every few days since you got back,” Ianto stated.

The older immortal’s eyes widened in surprise. “I have?” he questioned. When Ianto nodded his head, he added, “I don’t remember them.”

“I figured you didn’t,” Ianto responded. “That’s why I didn’t bring them up. What… I know you said you weren’t ready to talk about what happened, but if it’s still giving you nightmares, maybe you should tell someone.”

Jack sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them and looking across at Ianto. “Okay,” he whispered so quietly that Ianto wasn’t even sure he’d heard him correctly.

“What?”

The other man rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink. “I said, okay,” he repeated, louder so the other man could hear him. “You’re right; I need to tell you what happened.”

“I didn’t mean me necessarily,” Ianto said, shaking his head as he got to his feet.

Jack threw his head back and laughed. “I can’t exactly talk to a shrink about all this shit, can I?” he pointed out. “Besides, I thought being a therapist was part of the marriage contract.” Ianto threw a glare over his shoulder as he reached for the coffee. “It’s two in the morning and you’re making a cup of coffee?” he asked, a note of incredulousness in his voice.

Ianto shrugged. “Milk’s disgusting at the best of times,” he stated. “Unless it’s in a cup of coffee.” He was silent as he continued making the coffee; giving the beverage one final stir and setting the spoon to the side, before picking up cup back up and returning to the table. “Go on then,” he instructed. “Therapy is now in session; I’m charging you by the hour.”

Jack rolled his eyes and leant back in his chair. “After… When I left, you told me to get in touch with the Doctor and I did,” he began. “Well, I meant to.”

Ianto frowned and was about to open his mouth to ask what Jack was talking about, but the Captain held his hand up, silencing his questions before he had even managed to ask them. “Please,” Jack asked, practically begging for the first time in as far as Ianto could remember; Will Kanaris did not beg – unless they were in the middle of sex. “Can you not ask questions or anything until I’ve finished? If I don’t get it all out at once, I’ll never be able to do it.”

Slowly Ianto nodded his head, leaning back in his chair as he listened to Jack speak.

“I’ve decided that I hate time travel,” Jack stated, once he was sure that Ianto wasn’t going to interrupt. Ianto snorted with laugher and raised an eyebrow as he waited for Jack to continue. “The Doctor I got in contact with wasn’t any of the incarnations I’ve ever met; it was one of his past incarnations.”

Ianto’s mouth opened and he was about to say something when he remembered about Jack’s request and closed it again.

The older man threw him a thankful look, before he continued speaking. “I teleported onto the TARDIS – you should have seen it, Ianto; it didn’t look anything like it usually does – and he found me almost immediately. I nearly killed him and he nearly threw me off in the middle of space.”

Jack snorted with laughter and shook his head. “He knew there was something not right about me from the minute he laid eyes on me.”

Ianto threw him a fierce glare and Jack held up his hands in defence. “I know, I know,” he conceded, having the grace to look abashed. “It’s taken me a long time, but I’ve accepted that I’m like this and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Ianto didn’t look convinced and Jack tapped two fingers to his temple. “I swear; scout’s honour.”

The assassin rolled his eyes. “You were never a scout,” he muttered under his breath, folding his arms across his chest and glancing at the clock on the wall; it was nearing half past two and he was starting to feel tired – but he didn’t want to stop Jack when he was talking about what happened for the first time since his return.

Jack saw the action and winced when he saw the time. As he looked back at Ianto, he could the younger man yawning. “You’re tired,” he stated.

Ianto shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Finish what you were saying and then, maybe we can both get some sleep.”

Jack flashed him a thankful smile, before getting back on track with his explanation. “Just like last time, the TARDIS tried to get rid of me and the ship ended up on Triserenis – I hate planets that have more than one sun; they don’t get anything but daylight. Of course, lucky for us, there was a war going on and we managed to get caught in the thick of it.”

Ianto winced and reached out, placing his hand on top of Jack’s and squeezing softly. “What happened?” he whispered, giving up all pretence of keeping quiet.

“To cut a long story short?” Jack asked, knowing that Ianto really wanted to go back to bed. When the younger man nodded his head, he continued, “We were cornered; I didn’t really have much of a choice.”

Ianto frowned and ran his fingers over the back of Jack’s hand. Slowly, he brought the hand up and placed a soft kiss against the Captain’s knuckles. “What did you do?” he asked, knowing that something big had to have happened for Jack to be so reluctant to tell him.

“Used one of their own weapons against then,” Jack confessed, closing his eyes and Ianto could practically feel the guilt rolling off the other man. He didn’t have to be a powerful empath to figure that out – Ianto quickly pushed all thoughts of powerful empaths out of his tired mind; it wasn’t the time, or the place, to be thinking about that.

“I don’t know what kind of weapon it was,” Jack continued and Ianto had to force himself to focus on the words his partner was saying, not the memories that were stuck in his head. “I thought it was a gun, or something, but it created this kind of force field, I guess, around me and the Doctor. Everyone else who was within half a mile of us was killed by the weapon.”

Ianto drew in a breath through his teeth and winced. “Jesus,” he muttered, letting go of Jack’s hands and leaning back in his seat. “That’s one powerful weapon.”

“Yeah,” Jack sighed, running his hand over his face and yawning widely. “You should have seen the look on the Doctor’s face; he was so disgusted with me. He wouldn’t believe that I didn’t have a choice.”

Ianto rolled his eyes and muttered something in Frezian that was so colourful even Jack looked amazed. “For a being that is supposed to be a genius, he’s such a fucking idiot sometimes.”

Jack smiled tightly and chuckled lightly. “He didn’t speak to me all the way back to the TARDIS; he didn’t even say goodbye when he left me here.” Jack indicated to the room around him, although Ianto had the feeling that he was referring to the city – if not the planet – in general. 

He laughed again, albeit it a dull and humourless one this time. “You know, I’ve been trying to work out why he never trusted me back in 1941 – the first time around,” he added when he remembered that there had been three of him in that year at one point. “He’d already met me and knew what I was capable of.”

“I suppose that’s why he left you behind on the Game Station,” Ianto mused. “He didn’t bother to check if you were alive, cos he knew that you were going to end up immortal.”

Jack nodded his head. “He must have just presumed that it happened then and didn’t feel the need to stick around and see,” he muttered, his tone a little darker than it had been previously.

“Well,” Ianto stated, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smirk that worried Jack immensely. “I’m glad he left you behind.”

Jack’s eyes widened and he shrieked, “What?”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “If you’d had gone with him, you wouldn’t have been in Cardiff and finding you would have been even harder.”

Jack laughed and leant closer, kissing Ianto passionately. “Thank you,” he whispered against Ianto’s lips. “How much do I owe you?” he asked, not moving away from the younger man.

Ianto shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry about it,” he said dismissively. “I’ll take it out of your body.”

Jack grinned and ran his hand down Ianto’s arm. “Promises, promises, Mr Jones,” he purred, moving to kiss Ianto. When the other man yawned widely, Jack sat back and pouted. “Sorry, am I boring you?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he muttered, placing his hand in Jack’s and pulling his partner to his feet. “Come on,” he instructed, pulling Jack out of the kitchen and flicking the light off. “I’ve got a meeting with the Prime Minister at ten o’clock in the morning; I suppose we’d better get some sleep.” 

“Why do I have to get some sleep if you’re the one with the meeting?” Jack pouted, allowing himself to be dragged up the stairs.

“You’re coming with me,” Ianto stated simply, his tone of voice telling Jack that he shouldn’t argue because he wasn’t going to change his mind.

x

Ianto took a sip of the coffee he was holding in his hand and grimaced. He’d got it from the new coffee shop around the corner and he knew they wouldn’t be having him as a repeat customer; it was disgusting.

The instant he stepped through the door, he turned and headed straight for the coffee machine; if he was going to have something to drink, he’d have to make it himself.

He had barely got to the machine when he heard a pained, “Ow!” echo through the Hub, followed by several curse words in Gallifrean.

Abandoning his idea to make coffee for the moment, he left the kitchen and headed through the Hub, following the sound of the cursing to the medical bay.

Gwyn was sitting on the examination table while Torchwood’s medic, Robbie, stitched a bloody wound on the Time Lord’s arm. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Ianto snapped, crossing the room so that he was standing next to his grandson.

Gwyn looked up when he heard Ianto’s voice and grimaced when he spotted the assassin, not bothering to hide his groan. “What are you doing here?” he answered Ianto’s question with one of his own.

Ianto rolled his eyes. “I came to get some decent coffee,” he stated. “What happened?” he demanded again, nodding to Gwyn’s bloody arm.

The Time Lord shrugged his good shoulder. “Nothing major; it’s just a scratch,” he muttered, waving his hand dismissively. 

Robbie rolled his eyes and continued stitching up Gwyn’s wound. “A motorcycle crash is not just ‘a scratch’,” he stated, earning him a fierce glare from his boss.

“What? Ianto exclaimed loudly. “Why the hell didn’t you say something?” he demanded, putting his hands on his hips and staring down at the younger man.

Gwyn, who was still glaring at Robbie, hissed when the medic continued stitching him up. “I didn’t see the point in worrying you when it wasn’t too bad,” he stated, gritting his teeth.

“Exactly what happened?” Ianto asked, trying to keep his voice patient.

The younger man grimaced and looked away from Ianto for a moment, before he turned his head and looked back at the assassin. “Some lunatic came tearing around a corner and blindsided me,” he eventually murmured, a reluctant tone in his voice.

Robbie sighed heavily. “You’re lucky to be alive, Gwyn,” he reminded the other man. “In fact, if you weren’t a Time Lord, I’d say you shouldn’t be. At least you were almost close enough to regenerating.”

Gwyn growled at him and looked up at Ianto; the assassin was looking murderous. “I’m fine, Grandpa,” he stated, reaching out with his good hand and placing it on Ianto’s arm, snapping the former Time Agent out of his daze. “Really, I just cut up my arm pretty bad on the road and-,” 

“He has a slight concussion,” Robbie injected. 

“But,” Gwyn continued glaring at the medic, “it’s nothing that I can’t deal with.”

Robbie rolled his eyes and threw an exasperated looked at Ianto. “I tried to make him go to the hospital, but he’s a stubborn bastard and refused.”

Ianto snorted and shook his head, “Yeah, that runs in the family,” he muttered. “I told you that bike was dangerous, Gwyn,” he stated, piercing his grandson with a steely glare. “You should have gone to get checked out.”

“Yeah, right,” Gwyn muttered, rolling his eyes at the assassin’s words. “Do you want to explain to the doctors that the reason my blood is pumping around my body twice as fast as it should because I have two hearts?” He shook his head. “Why do you think it’s taken sweetheart over here so long to stitch me up? The damn thing won’t stop bleeding and it-, Ow!,” he exclaimed, glaring at Robbie when he tugged on the stitching.

The immortal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Robbie, do you think he should be in hospital? Or will he be okay if you keep an eye on him?”

Gwyn looked up at Robbie, purposely making his eyes wide in the hopes that the medic wouldn’t be able to resist. He grinned widely when Robbie sighed and turned his eyes away from Gwyn. 

“He’ll be okay,” he muttered reluctantly, looking back at Ianto. “As long as he stays awake and has at least a week out of the field to rest his arm.”

Gwyn looked as though he was about to argue, but one look at his grandfather told him that he would be stupid to say anything. “Fine,” he huffed, sitting back and letting Robbie finish stitching his arm up.

After a moment, Ianto asked, “What happened to the other driver?” 

“Barely a scratch on him,” Gwyn confessed. 

Ianto’s eyes darkened, and Gwyn lifted his hand, immediately recognising the murderous look on the immortal’s face. “No, Grandpa,” he said firmly. “There’s hardly a scratch on him and that’s the way he’s going to stay.”

The older man’s eyes narrowed and he folded his arms across his chest. “He could have killed you, Gwyn,” he reminded his grandson. 

The Time Lord sighed. “I know,” he whispered. “But if you kill him I don’t get my insurance payout.” Ianto pouted, before slowly nodding his head, silently assuring Gwyn that he wouldn’t do anything. “Thank you,” Gwyn whispered, just as Robbie told him that he was done.

“You… I…” Gwyn began, before rolling his eyes at himself. “You’re going to tell Granddad about this aren’t you?” he asked, wincing when Ianto nodded his head. “I don’t suppose there’s a way I can talk you out of it, is there?” he asked, a hopeful tone in his voice, even though he knew his asking was in vain.

The assassin shook his head, just as his phone began to ring. “Felix,” he greeted, answering the call as his gaze flickered to Gwyn. “Where are you?”

The younger Time Lord’s eyes widened in fear and he frantically shook his head, quietly pleading for Ianto to not say anything. 

Ianto scowled and moved away from Gwyn, waving his hand as he shushed the younger man. “London?” he repeated in surprise. “What are you doing there?” He was silent for a moment, before he nodded his head. “Will and I will be there in about two weeks,” he informed Gwyn’s father.

Ianto paused for a moment, before agreeing to whatever Felix had said and saying goodbye. 

Gwyn sighed with relief once the call was cancelled and he threw his grandfather a grateful look. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Dad would kill me if he knew I’d crashed the bike; he never liked me having it in the first place.”

“For a good reason, Gwyn!” Ianto exclaimed, exasperation evident in his voice. “They’re dangerous.”

“I haven’t crashed before,” Gwyn muttered darkly. At Ianto’s look, he added, “Not on this bike at least.”

Ianto sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “What happened to the bike?” he asked. 

Gwyn swallowed nervously and looked away from his grandfather. “Gwyn…” Ianto said, a warning tone in his voice.

“It skidded under a lorry and got totalled,” the Time Lord confessed, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

The assassin growled. “This isn’t going to stop you from getting another one, is it?” he asked, knowing that the younger man had loved motorcycles all his life and had been riding one since he’d passed his driving test.

Gwyn shook his head. “I like them better than cars, Grandpa,” he stated, shrugging on a clean shirt and wincing as the fabric brushed against the wound on his arm. “I promise I’ll be careful though, if it makes you feel any better?” he offered, looking up at the other man with a pleading expression on his face.

Ianto groaned and rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm around Gwyn’s shoulders and hugging him gently. “You look so much like your Papa when you do that,” he stated, pressing a soft kiss to his grandson’s hair. “He knew I could never resist him when he turned on the Harkness charm.”

Gwyn flashed him a huge smile, knowing that he had won Ianto over. “You’re never bothered by it when Granddad tries,” he stated.

The immortal scoffed and rolled his eyes. “That’s different; after centuries you start becoming immune to his bullshit. It’s different with children and grandchildren.”

x

Two days later, Ianto got the shock of his life when Gwyn pulled him to the side and asked him when he was planning on revealing his ‘little’ secret. The assassin had demanded to know what the Time Lord was talking about, but he hadn’t been expecting the answer he’d received. 

Once he was certain Gwyn wasn’t lying or imagining things, Ianto had done what he always did and headed to the gun range, emptying several magazines before heading home.

If he had been asked later, Ianto wouldn’t have been able to explain how he had gotten back from the Hub to their house; he didn’t remember teleporting, but then, he also didn’t remember driving either.

“Will?” he shouted, storming through the door and slamming it hard behind him. 

Almost immediately, Jack appeared at the top of the stairs. “What have I done now?” he asked wearily; Ianto only wore his current pissed off look when Will had done something.

Ianto didn’t answer him; instead he headed down the corridor and disappeared into the living room. He purposely left the door open; Jack would get the hint and join him in a second.

As predicted, it wasn’t long before Ianto heard footsteps on the stairs and Jack entered the room. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, crossing the room so he was standing in front of the assassin.

Without speaking, Ianto placed his hands in the centre of Jack’s chest and pushed him down on to the couch so hard that he hit his head on the back of the couch. “What the hell was that for?” Jack demanded, glaring up at his partner and running his hand over the back of his head. 

Ianto sighed and began to pace the room, not speaking. Jack watched him for a long moment, until he stopped and turned back to face him. “You said you needed time to readjust to being here,” he began, sitting in the chair opposite the other man, “and I gave you that. You said you needed space to figure out what was wrong with you, and I gave you that. I think I’ve earned some answers, don’t you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jack looked at him with a pained expression. “Ianto, I don’t think I can…” he breathed.

The assassin held a hand up and shook his head. “No, Will,” he argued. “I need to know what was wrong with you. This isn’t just about you and me anymore. I am not about to bring another innocent child into this relationship without knowing how much of a threat his or her father will be.”

Jack stared at Ianto for a long moment before his blue eyes widened as his words sunk in. “You’re not…” he swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling nervous and warm. “You’re not talking about a hypothetical child, are you?” he asked softly.

Ianto sighed and lowered his head, looking at his hands as he collected his thoughts. “No,” he replied, his own voice nothing more than a whisper. “It is what you think; I’m pregnant.” He looked up and met Jack’s blue eyes with his own. “I wasn’t going to tell you like this,” he confessed. “But I mean it, Will. I cannot – will not – bring another child into this partnership if I think it’s going to have to live in fear of you.”

“And how will you know that?” Jack asked in a strangled voice, running the fingers of one hand over the back of the other.

Ianto shrugged his shoulders, slumping back against the cushions and resting his elbow on the chair arm. “The same way I’ve known everything in my life,” he replied. “Intuition. If I think you’re still in the mindset you were when you left, I’ll…”

Immediately, Jack sat upright, fear clearly showing on his face. “You’re not… You’re not going to terminate the pregnancy, are you?” he pressed, dread in his voice as he spoke. He couldn’t even imagine going through the loss of another child like that – not after Megan. 

At Jack’s words, Ianto sighed and got to his feet, moving across the room and sitting next to him on the couch. “Of course I’m not,” he chided, taking Jack’s hands in his and squeezing them reassuringly. “I would never do that. You know that,” he scolded lightly, smiling a little – albeit it tightly - at the Captain. “But I really do need to know, Will,” he continued. “Otherwise… I don’t think I can let you be part of this child’s life,” he whispered.

Jack took in a breath and closed his eyes, trying to figure out how to explain to Ianto what he had discovered on his trip with the Doctor. “I know I was fine until we went to London at were face to face with the 456,” he began.

Ianto nodded his head. “It was like you’d had some kind of personality transplant without anyone else noticing,” he murmured.

The older immortal flushed with embarrassment and looked down at his hands in shame. “I know, and I’m sorry,” he whispered, bringing their joined hands to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss against Ianto’s knuckles. “There was something so familiar about them - and I’m not just talking about what happened in 1965 – I just didn’t know what.”

Jack paused. Even though Ianto wanted to say something, he had a feeling that if he interrupted, Jack would never finish his story. “When I was with the Doctor, I think the TARDIS did something to my brain.”

Ianto frowned deeply and threw Jack a questioning look. “I spent so long trying to block out the memory of what happened when I was a kid that I guess it took a bit of meddling by Time Lord technology for me to be able to unlock the memories,” Jack muttered, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile, before he turned serious again.

“That last night on the TARDIS was when I realised,” Jack continued. “It was the smell that tipped me off.”

Ianto grimaced and nodded his head; the smell of the toxic chemical released by the 456 was forever etched into his senses and he never wanted to smell it again.

“Back when I was a kid, the only way you could tell they were coming was the smell, and even then it was usually too late to run,” Jack whispered.

Ianto’s eyes widened as he realised what Jack was implying. “You mean… the 456?” he breathed.

Jack slowly nodded his head. “I was the only child out there that day that managed to escape; everyone else was either hiding or taken like Gray. I was fourteen and already going through puberty.”

“And he would have been…” Ianto trailed off, trying to calculate how old Jack’s younger brother had been when he had been taken.

“Ten,” Jack answered for him. “He was ten. Too young for puberty to have started.”

Ianto hissed and tightened his grip on Jack’s hand. “Back when we were at the Time Agency, you told me that your dad had blood all over him when you got back to the house.”

“We never did find out what exactly killed him,” Jack murmured. “Everyone just assumed it was the creatures that got him, but while I was with the Doctor, I got to thinking; what if it wasn’t them that killed him?”

They were silent for a moment as Ianto considered what Jack was saying. “So, you think that someone killed your dad in the panic that followed the 456’s arrival?” he surmised. 

Jack nodded his head. “Mom said she never saw what killed him. The few times I could get her to talk about what happened, she always said that she arrived back at the house and Dad was already dead.”

“It was the smell that made me realise, though,” Jack continued. “And that noise the 456 made when they were in Thames House…” He trailed off with a shudder. “Let’s just say that I was hearing that noise for months until we left Boeshane,” he muttered under his breath.

Ianto squeezed his hand soothingly. “I think you’re right,” he stated. “The smell and the sound were all memories you repressed when you were a kid. Hearing and smelling them again probably triggered the lock that was holding those memories back.”

Jack chuckled, albeit it weakly. “Listen to you; talking like Mr Psychology.”

Ianto rolled his eyes and glared at him. “I thought being your shrink was part of the marriage contract?” he muttered. “When we were in London you weren’t relying on common sense; I’m not even sure it was you.”

Jack frowned and looked at him in confusion, so Ianto explained gently. “Well, I know it was you, but I think it was your fourteen year old self that was controlling you. You weren’t thinking about your actions and the consequences; as far as I can tell, the only thing you could think about was protecting your family.”

Slowly, Jack nodded his head. “I think… That makes sense,” he conceded. “I think you’re right.”

Ianto grinned. “Of course I am; have I not told you that I know everything?” Jack rolled his eyes and Ianto bit his lip in thought, looking down at the coffee table in front of them. “You know, if you’re theory is right – which I think it is - the 456 are actually the reason my tad taught me to shoot in the first place?”

Jack’s eyes widened and he looked over at Ianto with a surprised expression. “Really?” he asked. “I never knew that,” he added.

Ianto shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not something I ever thought was important,” he confessed. “But, I remember that the day Tad took me to the gun range for the first time, Dad was so pissed off with him.”

Jack chuckled and leant back, pulling Ianto into his arms. “I can imagine him not being happy about it,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against Ianto’s hair as he recalled his first – and only – meeting with Ianto’s father, Lewis; he had definitely stuck Jack as the type of person you didn’t want to cross.

“Tad told him that he wanted me to learn how to shoot in case ‘the creatures’ ever came back,” Ianto continued, pressing his head against Jack’s chest as he listened to the heartbeat he had missed for so long. “Dad was adamant that it was pointless since it had been ten years since they’d attacked Boeshane…” he trailed off, letting the meaning behind his words sink in.

Ianto lifted his hands and framed Jack’s face. “What I’m trying to say is that, as corny as it sounds, I think everything happens for a reason.” Jack scoffed and Ianto glared at him. “I know it’s a horrible thought, but if Boeshane hadn’t been attacked, Tad would have never shown me how to shoot and I would have never have been at the Time Agency to begin with.”

Jack heaved a sigh and tightened his grip on Ianto. “I suppose you’re right,” he muttered reluctantly. “I hate when I tell you that; you get this really annoying smug look on your face. So, you were eleven when your tad taught you how to shoot?” he asked, waiting for the nod of agreement from Ianto. “So I would have been… twenty-four,” he finished, before groaning. “Oh, that makes me sound so old,” he whined.

Ianto chuckled and pushed himself upright. “A thirteen year age gap isn’t that bad,” he muttered, moving so he was straddling Jack’s lap. “How old are you now?”

Jack glared at him. “I’m not telling you,” he muttered through clenched teeth, placing his hands on Ianto’s hips and holding him in place.

“2,142,” Ianto answered his own question with a smug smile. “Depending on how long you were travelling with the Doctor in non-linear time.”

The Captain groaned and closed his eyes. “It was only two months,” he stated. “Apparently, he’s always been bad at arriving in the correct time,” he added, forcing his eyes open and looking at Ianto. “I don’t know why you’re looking so smug; you’re not exactly a spring chicken, yourself.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Compared to you I’m practically an infant,” he growled, although there was no irritation in his gaze. “I’m only 357!”

Jack laughed. “I love how you say only,” he chuckled, pulling Ianto closer.

There was silence between them, until Ianto leant forward and pressing his forehead against Jack’s. “Thank you for telling me,” he whispered, kissing Jack softly.

“Thank you for having me back,” Jack retorted, his voice barely louder than Ianto’s. “I know I’m not the easiest person to live with.”

Ianto snorted with laughter and rolled his eyes. “You’re not that bad,” he muttered, his voice a little reluctant to admit it. “I can always shoot you if you get too annoying.”

Jack laughed – a deep and sincere laugh for the first time in what felt like a millennia – and ran his hands around from Ianto’s back to his stomach. “You’re not having a gun for a while,” he informed the assassin. “You’re dangerous with one at the best of times; when you’re hormonal, everyone around you is in danger,” he added.

He looked up at Ianto, waiting for the nod of approval, before gently pressing the palm of his hand against Ianto’s still flat torso. Jack grinned widely when he felt the familiar heat that usually accompanied male pregnancies.

“You know,” he said, looking up into Ianto’s eyes. “There was a point when I didn’t think I’d feel that again,” he added, nodding down to the other man’s stomach.

Ianto smiled sadly and placed his hand over Jack’s, pressing his fingers against this body and grinning at the heat. “Me neither,” he whispered, lifting his head and looking at Jack. “Me neither,” he repeated, kissing the former Time Agent softly.

The End


End file.
